Racing Home: Bryant Brothers, #1

By Tami Lund

Tommy Bryant, famous motorcycle racer, ladies' man, commitment-phobe.

Tommy Bryant dominates the motocross scene, reigning as the undisputed champion. With fame, fortune, and adoration at his fingertips, he's accustomed to getting whatever he desires – until he encounters Camila Alverez.

Unfazed by his celebrity allure, Camila remains unimpressed and uninterested in the charms of the notorious playboy. When Tommy's advances are met with a resolute rejection, it sparks an unfamiliar sensation within him: the sting of being denied.

Determined to conquer the one person who dares defy him, Tommy eagerly accepts the challenge.

Bryant Brothers series:
Racing Home
To Love & Protect
The Right Tool
Picture Perfect

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tami Lund
• Release date: Mar 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201925413

Tami Lund

Romcom. Shifters. Vampires. Demigods. Dragons. Witches. Suspense. I write it all. With wine.

Book preview

Chapter

One

You need to come home.

Tommy yawned so widely his jaw popped. He was still in bed, his eyes closed, his body exactly the right temperature in the cocoon created by the sheet and a thin blanket. Why are you whispering, Mom?

Your brother’s home. She paused then added, Elliot.

Good thing she clarified, since Tommy had three of them.

You’re whispering because Elliot’s home?

Yes. Everybody’s still asleep.

Valid reason, except his parents’ house was huge, and his mom was probably standing in the kitchen or maybe in the family room, and both areas were plenty far enough away from the bedrooms that she could speak at a normal volume with no worries about disrupting anyone’s sleep.

Except Tommy’s, of course.

Mom, I just got home—he pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the screen and closed his eyes again—six hours ago. It’s the first weekend I’ve been in town since Easter.

I’m well aware, since I water your plants.

"Plants you gave me." He’d never admit that he actually liked the greenery. It gave his otherwise barren apartment a somewhat comfortable feel, which was nice for someone who spent the vast majority of his time on the road, living out of hotel rooms. He should make an effort to do more to make it feel homey, except whenever he was home, the last thing he wanted to do was decorate.

And the fact that you’ve been gone so long is a perfect excuse to come visit your parents.

I planned to stop by, he defended himself. No way I’d come into town and not gorge myself on your cooking.

Don’t even pretend you only come here for the food.

Fine, I won’t, although your cooking is definitely one of the top ten reasons for visiting.

Good, then come over right now. Well, in an hour. I’m making brunch.

Okay, that was tempting, considering he hadn’t been able to talk himself into stopping at the grocery store when he rolled into town in the middle of the night last night, and he was pretty sure he didn’t even have bread to make toast at this point.

Just a few more hours, he countered anyway.

"Elliot brought a girl home from college."

Tommy’s eyes popped open. Seriously?

Holy shit, none of them had ever brought a girl home. He was pretty sure none of them had ever introduced a girl to their mother, even as a friend. It was too risky. She was likely to start planning the wedding within the first ten minutes.

Poor Elliot. He probably should get over there, if only to play interference between his baby brother and Mom’s need for an estrogen rush.

Plus, he wanted to meet the girl his brother was willing to bring home and risk Mom throwing out baby names over dinner.

Fine, he said on a sigh.

Stop and get a couple bottles of champagne on your way.

What? Why?

Can’t have brunch without mimosas.

Tommy blew out a relieved breath. For a minute there, he thought they were going to toast his brother’s engagement, and while that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he figured he ought to actually meet the girl before the banns were posted.

When Camila parked her Mustang next to the curb in front of the address her sister had given her, she noted that the door was open and two cars were parked inside the garage, plus two vehicles in the driveway. One was Maddy’s old Ford Focus and the other was a tricked out, newer model, black on black Silverado pickup truck.

The house was a colonial, situated in a western suburb of Detroit. This place was actually closer to the bar where Camila worked than her own apartment was. The siding was white, the shutters dark green. Established bushes and trees dotted the front yard, and a mass of red, white, and purple petunias spilled out of a half barrel on its side next to the walkway leading to the front door.

This was what her life had been reduced to? Begging her younger sister to ask complete strangers to take her in so she could hide from some unnerving bar patron who had decided he and Camila should be together forever, regardless of her opinion on the matter?

She’d called Maddy and casually (well, that was the goal, anyhow) mentioned that she was looking for a place to stay for a few days—but not with their parents—and her sister had invited her to hang out with Maddy and her new boyfriend at his parents’ house.

C’mon, Camila, you can do this. It’s only four days. You have to report back to work on Friday, and there’s a good chance your stalker will be gone by then.

There was, wasn’t there? Being stalked was messing with her sleep schedule, as in she wasn’t getting much of it at all because her brain wouldn’t stop imagining all those scenes from too many Criminal Minds episodes that could actually happen to her.

Her purse vibrated, and she dug out her phone to read the incoming text.

Maddy: Where are you?

Why was she stalling? This was a far better option than spending the week alone in her apartment. Plus, Maddy had mentioned a pool. It was practically a vacation.

Scratch that, there was no practically about it.

Sucking in a deep breath and expelling it slowly, Camila shot a reply to her sister that simply said, Coming, and then she climbed out of the car, grabbed her bag, and headed toward the house.

Chapter

Two

Camila rang the doorbell, and a dog began barking like its life depended on announcing to the world that someone was standing on the front porch.

After a few moments, she heard a masculine voice yell at the dog to shut up, and then the door was wrenched open and a lean yet solidly muscled man stood there, his body framed like a halo from light shining from somewhere inside the house.

Holy criminy, was this Elliot? Camila hoped her sister stuck with him for the long haul, because this guy was hot. Yeah, yeah, that wasn’t what relationships should be based on, but damn, Maddy had certainly scored with this one, even if it was only for a few months. One glance at his hard, lean physique and Camila decided he was probably amazing in the sack.

Totally logical, that was her.

Er, hi. I’m Camila.

The guy grasped the top of the doorframe and leaned forward, his gaze sweeping her body in that same way confident guys had been doing for probably thousands of years. Hey, Camila, he drawled. For future reference, nobody uses the front door here. Makes Freddy nuts.

Freddy?

He gestured at the dog, who was now sniffing at Camila’s ankles, its stubby tail wagging about a hundred miles a minute. It was brown-and-white spotted and looked like a spaniel. One of those British sounding ones. King Charles…?

Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, the guy said as if he could hear her thoughts. Also known as Sir Freddy Krueger or Freddy for short.

You named your dog after a fictitious serial killer?

He shrugged.

So, erm, you must be Elliot?

Nope.

She waited. He gave her that classic guy once-over again. Not surprisingly, he flexed his pecs.

Oh Lord.

So you’re one of his brothers.

Yep.

She sighed. I don’t suppose you have a name?

He grinned. She half expected him to say, It’s XYZ, and I’m hoping you’ll be screaming it later. Maddy could have warned her that the brother was one of those guys. Whichever brother this was.

Tommy. He thrust out his arm. Nice to meet you. Who are you?

She shook his hand. It was huge and warm and annoying in that it gave her tingles because she was definitely not interested in Mr. Full of Himself. Er, I just told you my name is Camila.

Yeah, I got that part. Why are you here, Camila? And how do you know my brother?

She canted her head. Why are you so defensive?

He thrust his thumb over his right shoulder. Because there’s already a girl here with Elliot, and while it’s kind of badass that he has more than one clamoring after him, I like the one that’s already here, so I’m thinking you should probably leave.

Camila’s jaw dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of her chest. Was this guy accusing her of being—what? A stalker?

Um, I’m Maddy’s sister. She said I could stay here for a few days.

His brows shot into his hairline while his gaze danced over her body again. She deliberately crossed her arms over her boobs and glared at him.

Which earned her a slow grin in return.

You’re kidding, right? Camila bit her tongue. Now that she was here, she didn’t really want to go back to her apartment, in case the actual stalker was hanging out there. Plus, she was admittedly looking forward to seeing her baby sister. And meeting the guy she was currently gaga over.

Hopefully he was nothing like his brother.

Okay, so can I come in?

He chuckled. Right. Yes. Come on in. He moved to the side and mock bowed as he gestured for her to enter the foyer. The dog trailed along behind her.

The house was beautiful but not in a could-be-on-the-pages-of-a-magazine way. More like, warm. Cozy. Comfortable.

Yeah, I feel the same way every time I come home.

Camila jumped at the sound of Tommy’s voice, far, far too close behind her.

She twisted around, and he immediately lifted his hands, palms out. Sorry. Betting you probably don’t like guys walking up behind you.

She shook her